


this doesn't happen often

by vonseal



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, M/M, Romance, rated t for slight language, slight binu, sort-of-but-not-really character death?, who am i kidding its always slight binu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 19:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8813242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vonseal/pseuds/vonseal
Summary: He's been dead. He's been dead twice, actually. But Myungjun was proud to be a special case when it came to Death.





	

**Author's Note:**

> There was this Reddit prompt about someone dying and Death agreeing to let them a live a bit longer, and I guess I ran with that? Technically my first Astro fanfic, sorry for incorrect characterization. I'm rusty.

 

The day he died, Death came to ask him if he was ready to leave.  
  


Kim Myungjun stared up at Death, then over to his left where his car was smoking. He always thought his death would be a little more poetic, a little more calm, a little more _later_ in his life, and not when he was a nice young age of twenty.  
  


“This happens often,” Death assured him, and Myungjun's eyes snapped back to the figure in front of him.  
  


“What does? Death?” Myungjun's voice was scratchy, maybe from the smoke or the blood or the fact that he didn't think he was actually _in_ his body at all, if that made any sense. It didn't to him. He wondered if Death was used to the confusion Myungjun was feeling.  
  


Death smirked. Death was cute. Myungjun could look Death in the eye as often as possible, maybe, if he wasn't currently dead. “No,” the figure responded. “Well...yes. I guess it does. I mean, people _do_ die often enough. It gives me a job, you know. Otherwise, I wouldn't do much all day long. But after I collect you, I have to hurry because someone else _just_ died.” Death blinked a few times, then pointed a finger at Myungjun. “Don't get me off track again. I meant to say that dying _young_ happens often. More than you can imagine, probably. It's sad, isn't it? I always hate the young ones. Especially kids. I think I'll retire soon so I won't have to deal with the kids.”  
  


Myungjun wanted to point out that Death was getting _himself_ off track. He cleared his throat and effectively shut up the ramblings of Death. “Yeah, but I don't want to die.”  
  


“Does anyone?”  
  


“Sure. Maybe. Not me, though.” Myungjun shook his head and continued to stare Death in the eye. Death stared back. Had he been alive, Myungjun _probably_ would have been looking away by now, blushing as if he had just been sunburned and vowing never to show his idiotic face to such a _gorgeous_ man again. Speaking of which - “You really don't look like Death. I expected someone more, uh...” He gestured uselessly in Death's direction. “I expected a skeleton.”  
  


Death nodded. “Yeah, everyone does.” He pulled back on his sleeve to reveal a watch. Myungjun had to crane his head to look, but he was pretty sure the watch wasn't telling the current time. There was no current time. Everything seemed frozen, but things were still in movement. The smoke was still unfurling from Myungjun's car and the clouds seemed to be moving, but then where were the police and ambulance? Surely they would have come by this point.  
  


“Do I have to die?” Myungjun offered Death a small smile. “I have a lot going on right now. I'm not prepared for it. Can you come back later?” Death opened his mouth, but Myungjun cut him off. “Promise, next time this happens, you can take me! It won't until I'm older, so I won't be as good-looking as I am now and you might be disappointed-” Death gave a snort, which Myungjun chose to write off as a good-natured snort. “-but I _will_ come.”  
  


The figure weighed his options, pursing his lips slightly as he stood in thought. “Everyone asks that, though. In some form or another. I don't make special cases.”  
  


“You can! You can start, uh, right now! Special case for someone as handsome as me, right?” Myungjun grinned brightly, and he could tell he was actually getting to Death. _He was getting to Death_. This was something he had never even imagined happening. (Then again, he had also imagined Death to be ugly and spooky, and not the literal embodiment of an angel.)  
  


Death sighed, and Myungjun knew the decision had been made. “I don't even know why I'm doing this, but, you know what? Fine. The car crash won't kill you.” He bent down to Myungjun's level. Myungjun wished Death would smile again. Death had a nice smile, but the moment right now seemed to call for a more serious Death, so he wouldn't push it. “Next time, I'm going to take you. Okay?"  
 

Myungjun moved a bloody hand to give Death a thumbs-up. “Sure. Next time, I'm going to come.”  
 

He didn't think Death looked convinced, but at least there was a small smile one the figure's face. “And this might be painful. Think you can handle it?”  
 

“It's better than death, isn't it?”  
 

The smile grew. “You're weird. Fine. Keep living.” Death waved a hand, and Myungjun felt sudden drowsiness wash over him. “I'll see you later, Myungjun.”  
 

And then everything was dark.  
 

* * *

   
“How the hell did you manage this?”  
 

Myungjun blinked open his eyes. He was outside, and things were moving, but not _quite_ in the realm of current time, and he felt a weird sense of deja vu. It had been a few years since his deadly car accident. He had been in the hospital for a while, but he was back to normalcy after that. Life had been going okay, for the most part, and suddenly he managed to drown. He looked over at Death, who seemed rather confused.  
 

“Damn, this _is_ awkward. I thought our first date was bad.” Myungjun sat up this time, brushing sand off of his fingers.  
 

“It wasn't a date,” Death countered.  
 

“Date with Death.” Myungjun continued as if Death hadn't spoken. “I'm the luckiest guy in the world, aren't I? I mean, in more ways than one. Got to look a literal beauty such as _Death_ in the eyes, and also I actually managed to get away from you.” He laughed. “I'm the one who got away!”  
 

Death didn't seem amused. In fact, Death just looked dumbfounded. “How did you drown, though? It hasn't been that long. I thought you were going to die of old age.”  
 

Myungjun stood and began to brush sand off of his shorts. “That's what I said. And I will. One day.” Once he deemed himself semi-clean (and trying to ignore the water dripping from his clothes), he glanced over at Death. “Hey, you're shorter than I imagined! I thought Death was tall. Did you shrink? You look a _lot_ shorter than when I first met you. I mean, could be because I was on the ground, but _still_ , you're short.”  
 

Death blushed and Myungjun's eyes widened in shock. Death _blushed_. _Death blushed_. He had to burn this image into his memory, he really did. This might be the best thing about death. Dying meant he could see Death blushed. Hell, he'd take it.  
 

“I...I don't think I'm that short,” the figure responded.  
 

“Nah, I'm short, and you're shorter than me.” Myungjun stepped closer and was pleased to note that Death was getting flustered. God, he couldn't believe he was finding Death _cute_. His stomach got butterflies, though, and he had to step closer again. “Yeah, shorter than me.”  
 

Death huffed and shook his head. “It's only by a few centimeters. Quit it, though. You told me you'd come-”  
 

“I thought Death was supposed to wear, like, a black cloak.” Myungjun had to hold him off for a little bit. Despite his initial promise, he didn't feel _ready_. Sure, Death was cute, and he would love nothing more than to go with Death, but he was thinking more along the lines of a date they had scheduled in advance. This was sudden.  
 

“A black...? Honestly, this isn't a movie!” Death looked down at the nice suit he was currently dressed in. “I just feel like this is more business-like, don't you? I mean, it _is_ business I'm conducting. Maybe different than what most people expect, but it's a job, and I like to make great first impressions.”  
 

Myungjun gave Death the sweetest smile he could muster up. “You made a _great_ first impression on me, Death. In fact, I'd like to see you again later. Let's say...four years from now.”  
 

“What?”  
 

“Yeah, I want you in something more casual, though. For our first _official_ date, I think a suit will be too much, and if I die in a gruesome way, I might be covered in blood, and so just tone it down a notch so I won't feel _too_ awkward.” Myungjun kept the smile on his face. This could work. This really _could_ work. The gears were turning in Death's head, Myungjun knew it, and he wanted nothing more than to live another day– at least one more day. He wanted to prepare, not go out because he was an idiot who apparently fell in the ocean while boating and just drowned. That was too lame.  
 

Death thought for a few more seconds. “You know,” he slowly started, “you're a little too...uh, what's the word? Too _much_.”  
 

Myungjun lost the smile. “Yeah, you're the one who keeps appearing around me. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you _want_ me to keep living so that you can keep on coming back.”  
 

“It's been twice – do you even know how my job works? I don't think you do. I come regardless of whether or not I like you.”  
 

“I was your only special case, right?” Myungjun nodded his head and pointed at Death. “So you _do_ like me, and you just don't want to admit it, right?” Death didn't respond. Death blushed (Myungjun wanted to take a picture of that), and so Myungjun continued. “So how about four years? Or more, or less, doesn't matter. I'll be prepared next time, and then this can work out properly.”  
 

He had to wait, though. Death was pondering Myungjun's words, and Myungjun could see him weighing the cons and the pros – literally, because Death had two hands in front of him and was slowly moving them as he mumbled quietly to himself.  
 

Death reminded Myungjun of a cute zoo animal.  
 

“I'm really going to regret this,” came the final mumble, and Myungjun felt absolutely elated. He was going to _live_. He had looked Death in the eyes twice now, and he was still going to _live._ Oh, just wait until his friends heard about this! “You have to promise me – _really_ promise me – that you'll die properly next time, Myungjun.”  
 

“Sure.”  
 

“You said that last time.” Death held out his hand, then stuck up his pinky finger and looked at Myungjun expectantly. “Promise. For real, Myungjun, _promise_ you'll die next time. I don't do this often, so you have to promise to come with me. I can't do it again.”  
 

It was such a loaded promise, but it also meant locking pinkies with Death and Myungjun was freely admitting to himself that he had such a stupid crush on Death, so he accepted the promise. Their pinkies intertwined and they stared at each other – Death was serious, but Myungjun was grinning. “Your hands are soft.”  
 

“Do we have a promise?”  
 

“Yeah.” Myungjun nodded his head and didn't move his finger at all. “If you tell me your name, I'll do a _double_ promise.”  
 

“What the hell is a double promise?”  
 

“Just in case I accidentally break this one. Here.” Myungjun held up his other hand, and his pinky finger was stretched out toward Death, who was looking incredulously at Myungjun. “I'm not _planning_ on breaking our promise, I swear, but I might forget and then it'd be weird, and I want you to take me! So _double_ promise – but only if you tell me your name.”  
 

“My name's Death.”  
 

Myungjun screwed his nose up and shook his head. “That's your title. Everyone has a name. I'm not going to call you Death on our first date, though.”  
 

He wondered if Death was just going to leave him. Things were silent for a bit, and Myungjun could only hear the rolling of the ocean waves as they hit the shore. Water rushed over his flip-flops, and it would have been really cute and romantic if not for the fact Myungjun was dead.  
 

“Jinwoo,” Death murmured. “Park Jinwoo. Here, just-” He hooked pinky fingers with Myungjun, that blush spreading across his face once more. Myungjun was pretty sure he was falling in love with Park Jinwoo.  
 

“Right. Jinwoo. _Park_ Jinwoo. Jinwoo, I promise I will not deny your advances a third time. I won't reject you again. I'll actually prepare for our next date and my clothes will be dry, probably, hopefully, and-”  
 

“Has anyone ever told you that you're an idiot?” Jinwoo removed both of his fingers from Myungjun's. “Lay down, or else you'll fall and you might get hurt.”  
 

“Aw, Jinwoo, you care about me! This actually might be the sweetest thing I've been told. No one else is as gentle with me-” He was unable to finish the sentence, however, because suddenly he was coughing and sputtering up water, and he fell uncomfortably in the sand.  
 

Jinwoo, standing over him, rolled his eyes. “See you in four years, Myungjun.”  
 

And despite the fact that Myungjun felt as if his _lungs_ were on fire and there was an ungodly amount of water being forced from his throat and he could hardly see much of anything in the midst of his fit, he was pretty sure Jinwoo winked at him.  
 

Myungjun made a double promise right there that he would wink back next time.  
 

* * *

   
The _next time_ happened to be the strangest time, because Myungjun was pretty sure he hadn't died. At least, from what he remembered, he had simply been walking home from work and just so happened to glance in the window of a nearby convenience store to see that unique mop of blond hair. The owner of said hair was calmly reading a newspaper and sipping on a drink.  
 

Myungjun waved in an attempt to grab Jinwoo's attention, but Jinwoo was too far invested in current events to notice his favorite "special case" standing outside.   
  


So Myungjun went inside instead and plopped right beside Jinwoo. 

  
Death gave a slight jump and looked over at Myungjun in shock. “Wha-?”  
 

“So _this_ is what you do when you're not hovering over me?” Myungjun relished the expression Jinwoo currently had on his face. That startled Bambi look fit him perfectly. “Coffee and...you're reading the obituaries? You could at least _try_ not to fit the stereotype of Death.”  
 

“Shh, don't say it so loud!” Jinwoo hissed. Myungjun shrugged – there was no one else in the store, save for the cashier who was obviously some bored teen not paying attention to a thing except his phone. “And I wasn't reading _this_ , I was just flipping through. You caught me at a bad time, is all.”  
 

“Sure.” Myungjun didn't even care much anymore; he was far more curious about Jinwoo's current attire. “You know, though, this isn't _really_ our first date. Or it can be, if you want it to be! I don't mind either way!” He gave a cheery smile. Jinwoo still looked confused, so Myungjun tried to explain. “Our first date. You wear casual clothes. I said that, didn't I? When I died half a year ago.”  
 

Jinwoo blinked, then glanced down at his clothes as if he just became aware of his outfit decision. “Oh...well, I wasn't really thinking about that. I just wore what was most comfortable. I don't keep wearing suits on my time off.”  
 

“Well, you look handsome either way, if you wanted to know.”  
 

“I didn't.” But Jinwoo was actually smiling, so Myungjun considered his comment to be very much necessary. “Why are you here, though? Usually you go by much earlier.”  
 

Myungjun shrugged. “Had to stay and work a bit later. We're short-staffed right...now, but, okay, how did you know I get off of work earlier than this? I haven't seen you in ages.” He stared over at Jinwoo, who appeared to be _really_ struggling for an answer. “Wait...wait, is this 'cause you think I'm attractive? You just have to keep following me and staring-”  
 

“You really _are_ an idiot,” Jinwoo mumbled. “It's just because you've died twice, so I kept an eye on you every so often to wait for you to die once more.”  
 

Damn, Jinwoo really knew how to wipe the smile off of Myungjun's face, and he sat back. “Ah, well...maybe it's because I'm a _little_ attractive to you?”  
 

“No.”  
 

“You can admit it! I won't tell a soul.” When Jinwoo glanced over at him, Myungjun mimed zipping his lips shut, which earned him a deep chuckle.

   
“You're an _idiot_ to me, really.” Jinwoo finished off the rest of his drink (Myungjun was pretty sure it was coffee, which was information he would store away for later) and folded up his newspaper. “Don't get yourself into anymore trouble, Myungjun. It's only been half a year, and I think you said _four_ years.”

   
Myungjun frowned, grabbing at Jinwoo's empty coffee cup to throw away – he'd at least be as courteous as possible, just to show Jinwoo what he was missing out on by not instantly declaring his love. “Well, now that I know where you take your breaks, we'll see each other before four years, right?” Jinwoo raised his eyebrows, which Myungjun took as an invitation to keep speaking. “I decided I don't want our first date to be me _dead_ , not again, so I need to take you out on a date _before_ I die again.”

   
“I never even agreed to date you.”

   
“Yet,” Myungjun added. Jinwoo rolled his eyes, but there was that smile again, so Myungjun wasn't too disappointed. “What if I'm late coming home from work tomorrow? Will you be here reading about dead people?”

   
“I wasn't – oh my _god_ , you're so weird.” Jinwoo ran his fingers through his hair. “You do remember that I _am_ Death, right? Why are you flirting with Death?”

   
“You're also Park Jinwoo, and I honestly don't care if you decided to name yourself Barf, I'd still flirt with you.” Myungjun's smile was stretched widely across his face as he stood from his chair. “Tomorrow, then? Sound good, Jinwoo?”

   
There wasn't much for Jinwoo to argue. Myungjun was going to come regardless of Jinwoo's answer, so the blond could only sigh and nod his head in agreement. “Alright. I...I guess I'll be here.” Myungjun gave a thumbs-up of confirmation, and Jinwoo added, “This doesn't happen often, Myungjun.”

   
“Really?” Myungjun widened his eyes in mock surprise. “Does this ever happen?”

   
The silence answered that question for him.  
  


* * *

   
Their meetings continued in such a manner until Myungjun decided he could never get enough of Jinwoo. He found himself constantly daydreaming about Jinwoo's cute hair, his cute nose, his cute smile, his cute height, his cute _everything_ , and when he felt as if his brain might burst from storing all of these memories away at once, he had to allow the daydreams to become morning rambles to his friend and roommate, Moonbin. Bin took it like a trooper, honestly, just nodding and slurping at his cereal.  
 

Then again, Bin was always half-asleep.  
 

When they became _evening_ rambles was when Bin finally started commenting on it. “Wait, wait, Myungjun, I'm really confused. You died?”  
 

“Right.”  
 

“And came back?”  
 

“Yup!”  
 

“...Twice?”  
 

Myungjun nodded his head excitedly. Bin didn't look at all convinced, so a large exhale escaped Myungjun's mouth. “You suck at following along. So I died, and Death greeted me, but Death is Jinwoo, who is absolutely _adorable_ , Binnie, you should meet him. And I managed to get him to let me live, and then when I drowned – you remember I fell off the boat and got washed up on the shore?”  
 

“Uh...you swam to shore? We weren't that far away.”  
 

“I drowned.” Myungjun rolled his eyes. “God, you're just so skeptical.”  
 

“Hyung, it just sounds weird. I mean, _no one_ dies and then manages to come back. And there's no such thing as a figure named Death who comes to collect souls. That's superstition. I'm not denying you met some handsome guy named Park Jinwoo-” Bin quickly added, noticing Myungjun's sudden frustration. “-but...Death? It just doesn't sound, um...accurate, I guess.”  
 

Myungjun was quiet for a few seconds. Was there actually a way to get Bin to believe him? Other than outright killing him, of course, and Myungjun obviously wasn't going to do that. “How about I bring him over here tomorrow evening? We can have dinner and you can meet him then.”  
 

“Will he be wearing black robes and casting spells?”  
 

“No, I asked him that, and he said _that's_ superstition.” Myungjun set the remote down on the couch beside Bin and stood up. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed. Even if you don't believe me about the whole dying thing when you meet Jinwoo, at least you'll believe me when I tell you how cute he is.”  
 

“I believe you, hyung.”  
 

“And don't even _think_ about trying to steal him from me!” Myungjun pointed an accusatory finger at his friend. “I'm working my way into Jinwoo's heart, and I don't want him falling in love with you!”  
 

“I have a boyfriend, but thanks.”  
 

Moonbin's words were almost lost on Myungjun, who was stomping off to his room quite like a child. He was far from upset, however. He knew Moonbin would be a perfect host. He knew Jinwoo and Moonbin would get along well, but he also knew he was Jinwoo's special exception. Jinwoo didn't save just anyone twice, after all. That never happened.  
 

* * *

   
Myungjun proudly watched his soon-to-be-boyfriend laughing and joking with his best friend. This meeting was actually going even better than he expected. They were eating dinner, something Myungjun and Bin threw together quickly (the original plan had burned, and this was more of microwaved food, but it worked for its purpose), and talking about _everything_ under the sun. Bin was rather inquisitive, though he had yet to bring up the whole _Death_ status.  
 

“What do you like so much about Myungjun, Jinwoo?” Bin suddenly asked just as Jinwoo had turned back to his food.  
 

Chopsticks faltered in Jinwoo's hand (that _soft_ hand, Myungjun reminded himself – he'd have to try and hold it one day). “I...what? Like, um...as a friend, right?”  
 

If Myungjun wasn't certain this relationship-that-they-did-not-yet-have-but-would-soon would work, his spirits might have been dashed. And, sure, maybe they _wavered_ , but it was far from being dashed, and he simply gave a loud laugh. “You're a dork, Jinwoo. That's what I like about you. You're just a dork. Right, Binnie?”  
 

“Well, I was asking Jinwoo about _you_.”  
 

“Maybe he's too shy to answer. Or maybe he just wants to eat his noodles.”  
 

Okay, so the falter of his spirit _might_ have been turning into panic. If Bin kept goading Jinwoo, Myungjun might not like the answer. He might not like to have Jinwoo tell Bin, “I only like him as a friend,” or, “I don't really find anything about him appealing, I just have to save his ass all the time.” These things had left Jinwoo's mouth on multiple occasions while they spent their evenings in the convenience store, but if Jinwoo said it to someone else, a neutral third party, it wouldn't just be a cute banter over coffee. It would be something much more definite.  
 

Myungjun's smile wasn't able to reach his eyes, and he shook his head. “We don't have to quiz him right now.”  
 

“He's an idiot,” Jinwoo suddenly blurted out, gesturing over to Myungjun with his chopsticks. Bin simply nodded, whereas Myungjun looked over at Jinwoo in confusion. That wasn't what he expected to hear. That wasn't a rejection, but it wasn't acceptance of love. Before he could ask anything, however, Jinwoo continued. “He's dumb and he has a death wish, but he's...got a nice smile, I guess. And he laughs at everything.” Jinwoo's voice grew lower, and he stuffed some noodles in his mouth. While chewing, he mumbled, “I like how happy he is. Makes me happy.”  
 

Bin smirked and glanced over at Myungjun, who was currently too shocked to do much of anything other than stare at Jinwoo. His eyes felt like they might bulge out of the sockets, and Jinwoo was pointedly ignoring him.  
 

That...that wasn't what Myungjun expected. That wasn't rejection. That wasn't even acceptance of love, but it was something beautiful and kind and something Jinwoo had never said before. “Glad to...to hear that, Jinwoo,” he finally stammered out, looking down at his food. He wasn't hungry anymore. He was suddenly nervous. It might not have been the cheesy love declarations Myungjun liked to spout, but it was so sincere that it sent his heart hammering.  
 

He loved Jinwoo. And he wanted Jinwoo to love him right back.  
 

Bin must have sensed the slight tension in the air, because he sighed loudly and scraped at the bottom of his dish. “Myungjun, are you going to eat the rest of yours?”  
 

“Oh, no. No, I'm full. Ate a large lunch.”  
 

“You didn't eat lunch. You were too excited to eat.” Bin reached over and grabbed Myungjun's food, nonetheless.  
 

“I ate when you weren't looking, Bin.”  
 

“Sure.” Bin began shoveling noodles in his mouth, acting as if he was oblivious to Jinwoo's blush and Myungjun's silence, but Myungjun knew better. Bin was too sly for that. Damn him.  
 

“Jinwoo?” Myungjun's voice was a bit louder than he would have liked, and Jinwoo looked up from his noodles with a start. “Jinwoo,” he began, quieter this time. “Uh...I have to check on something outside. I'll show you something! Yeah, so you can just...come look with me really fast?”  
 

Jinwoo wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Are you sure you don't want to look at it after dinner?”  
 

“He wants to talk to you,” Bin muttered to Jinwoo. Myungjun shot him a glare and Bin gave him a shrug in response. _Damn_ Bin and his desire to get involved.  
 

However, it worked, even if it made Jinwoo drop his chopsticks and scurry up from the table. “Sure. Outside. To, uh.... _look_ at something. Because that's all we're doing.”  
 

“Right.” Myungjun cleared his throat and then quickly led the way outside, pretending he didn't notice the satisfied smile Bin was giving him the entire time.  
 

Once outside the door, Myungjun stuck his hands in his pockets. He wished he had thought to grab his coat, if only so he could offer it to Jinwoo, who looked as if he was positively freezing. His breath made small puffs of smoke in the frigid air and his nose was already turning delightfully red, as well as the tips of his ears. He hugged himself in order to conserve his own body heat and glanced around the front porch. And in that moment, Myungjun couldn't help but say, “I think I love you.”  
 

Jinwoo's head snapped over to stare at Myungjun. Nothing was said. A plane was flying far overhead, the only noise to cut through the silence between the two men. Myungjun shifted slightly made sure to keep his eyes only on the ground.  
 

“You...you love Death?”  
 

“I love Jinwoo. And if you're Death...sure. I love Death, too. Same person.” Myungjun's tongue darted around his lips, trying to keep them from getting dried out. “You don't have to love me back. I thought...I mean, I know I'm always teasing you and flirting with you and you might not think it's serious, but it...became serious.”  
 

Jinwoo was still staring, Myungjun realized when he peeked up to see his expression. Myungjun's eyes went back to the ground. “I'm sorry. Didn't mean to say anything. You can ignore me, if you want. You were still eating, right? We can-”  
 

“Please look up,” Jinwoo suddenly blurted, and Myungjun did, only to have Jinwoo close the distance between them. Their lips touched, softly, very gently, and Myungjun's eyes widened. Jinwoo's eyes were closed, and _Jinwoo was initiating the kiss_.  
 

After a few seconds of feeling such an initial shock, Myungjun kissed back, taking his hands out of his pockets to cup Jinwoo's cheek. The skin on his face was just as soft as the skin on his hands, he realized, and his lips seemed to mold in _perfectly_ with Myungjun's lips. It was absolutely wonderful until Jinwoo suddenly flinched back.  
 

Myungjun wondered if his kissing was that bad. “I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't- I wasn't trying to really get _into_ the kiss, I just-”  
 

“No, no, not that! Your hands were _freezing_ , though! Sorry, I tried to ignore it, but you should have worn gloves, or-or we should have kissed, um, inside.” Jinwoo was smiling, his eyes the shape of the crescent moon that was right overhead. But the moon could fall at this moment and Myungjun wouldn't even care, because Park Jinwoo, Death himself, had kissed Kim Myungjun.  
 

His smile was coming back on, stretching across his face, and his cheeks would have hurt from how wide he was smiling if only his face wasn't numb from the cold. “We can't kiss inside just yet. Bin's in there. He might think it's weird.”  
  


Jinwoo chuckled, that deep, rich laughter bubbling from his throat that Myungjun always adored coaxing out. “Not if we're going to be a couple, it's not.”  
 

“Jinwoo, are you asking me out on a date?”  
 

“First date, yeah. With you not dead.” Jinwoo was back to hugging himself. “And maybe...casual clothes, but not _too_ casual, because I'd like to go to a nice restaurant.”  
 

Myungjun was sure his face would break in half with his smile. “I'd like that, yeah. A lot, Jinwoo. We can schedule it this time, too.”  
 

Jinwoo nodded and they stood there in silence. This silence was good, though. This silence held the promise of many years to come, and Myungjun felt as if he could conquer the world right about now. But first, he wanted to try and get his noodles back from Bin. He was suddenly hungry once more. “Right. Um...here, after you-”  
 

He opened the door, but it smacked into something right behind it. “ _Ow_ , dammit!” Myungjun heard Bin cry, and he pushed the door open the rest of the way to reveal his roommate rubbing at his forehead. “Hyung, you could have at least mentioned you were going in so I could've gotten out of the way.”  
  


“You were listening?” Myungjun scoffed and lightly hit at Bin's forehead, earning himself a small whimper. “You're a sneaky bastard! What happened to privacy around here, huh?”  
 

Bin was pouting, and he glanced over at Jinwoo, who seemed torn between being embarrassed or being proud about their relationship status being more out in the open. “Still don't understand what you see in him, Jin- _ow_ , stop hitting me, Hyung!”  
 

Myungjun gave a slight huff as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I'm going to irritate Dongmin and see how you like _that_.”  
 

“You already irritate him on a daily basis. Pretty sure he's used to it by now.” Bin backed away before Myungjun could hit him again. “I'm happy for you two. Really. Maybe now you'll stop constantly whining about how much you adore him.”  
 

“I don't whine!”  
  


“I have recordings.” Bin backed away one more time for good measure; while Myungjun's smile could light up an entire room, his glower could frighten even the most daring of souls. “Well, I think _I'm_ going to go visit Dongmin, now that you brought him up. So just...move out of my way and I'll be off.”  
 

Myungjun wouldn't have allowed that to happen, except Jinwoo was already making space for Bin to get through, and since Myungjun didn't want to appear childish in front of his new boyfriend, he, too, stepped away from the door. Bin quickly slipped his shoes on before giving Myungjun one last grin and heading off.  
 

They were alone once more and Myungjun faced Jinwoo. "Sorry about him." He felt the need to apologize for Bin's entire existence.  
 

"For-? Oh. Him? No, he's fine. Seems like a great friend."  
 

Myungjun _knew_ Bin was a great friend, but like hell he'd admit it. Anyway, it was really weird to have Bin as the main focal point of their conversation, especially right after they had shared such a beautiful kiss together.  
 

And, speaking of kiss, Myungjun was hoping there was more where that came from. “Feel my hands,” he demanded. Once Jinwoo had done so, Myungjun continued, “Warm enough now?”  
 

That seemed to loosen Jinwoo up. He laughed, throwing his head back and lightly gripping onto Myungjun's hands. “They are! They are, so you can try kissing me again!”  
 

"I was planning on it, trust me."  
 

They kissed a lot that night.  
 

* * *

   
Things were actually going _extremely_ well with Death as his boyfriend. Of course Jinwoo did have a job to preform, so he would have to go at all hours of the day or night, but Myungjun had been aware of that when he had agreed to date Jinwoo. He had been learning a good amount about Jinwoo's profession, as well, and how _obviously_ he couldn't be everywhere at once, so there were, in fact, multiple Deaths.  
 

“Multiple Jinwoos?” Myungjun had asked and Jinwoo had chuckled.  
 

“Only one Jinwoo. Multiple Deaths, though. Lots of them, for different portions of the world.” Jinwoo had ruffled Myungjun's hair. “Luckily, I'm Death right where you were, so I think fate drew us together, or something.”  
 

It _had_ been fate, Myungjun had readily agreed, but then talking about Jinwoo's profession reminded Myungjun that Jinwoo was some sort of supernatural being – Jinwoo wasn't human, and thus didn't live by human standards. Jinwoo had been alive for longer than Myungjun had been alive, longer than his parents had been alive, _maybe_ longer than his grandparents but he had shut Jinwoo up with desperate kisses by that point, and Jinwoo was never in any rush to talk while Myungjun was kissing him.  
 

Jinwoo being Death had actually started to scare Myungjun, though. He thought he was fine with their positions in life to begin with, but with the knowledge that _he_ would age while Jinwoo would stay the same throughout eternity really began testing Myungjun's boundless optimism.  
 

So much so, in fact, that he didn't notice the sirens and screams until he was about to run into a panicked woman pointing at a motionless, bloody body out in the street. It was morbid and a little _too_ close to home, so Myungjun backed up, and would have probably tried to offer help from afar if Jinwoo hadn't suddenly appeared right near the body.  
 

He hadn't seen his boyfriend in action before, save for the two times previously at his own death. This new angle, though, made Myungjun's blood run cold.  
 

He was dating Death.  
 

No one else seemed to notice Jinwoo's sudden appearance, and Myungjun stared as his boyfriend spoke to-  
 

Well, to nobody. The body was still on the ground and Jinwoo certainly wasn't speaking to the body.  
 

Myungjun had just assumed the bodies would get up and start talking, as he had done before. He hadn't even thought about the fact that Jinwoo was taking their souls, and not their bodies. His boyfriend was literally _Death_. His boyfriend dealt with this on such a daily basis, and Myungjun grit his teeth down.  
 

He was happy with Jinwoo. He was so happy. They got along so well; their personalities molded together just as well as their kisses had. Jinwoo was slow, Myungjun was quick. Jinwoo was a little more rational and realistic, whereas Myungjun's positive attitude would never be doused. Jinwoo loved Myungjun, and Myungjun loved Jinwoo.  
 

But suddenly, Death wasn't Jinwoo. Death was someone different, someone speaking to a spirit seriously, monotone, betraying no emotions whatsoever. The suit was as pristine as it was when he had met Myungjun for the first time, and Myungjun wondered if this soul was pleading for her life.  
 

But _he_ was the special case, wasn't he? It was his soul that Jinwoo saved twice before. It didn't happen often, according to Jinwoo.  
 

And it didn't appear to happen now. Jinwoo moved away from the body, and Myungjun knew that she would never rise again. He continued to stare at the dead woman, feeling slight bile rise up in his throat, and then something cut through his thoughts.  
 

“What are you doing here?”  
 

Jinwoo was in front of him now, staring at him with those wide, inquisitive eyes, and Myungjun blinked rapidly. “I...walking, I was just...” He noticed the crowd still panicking, the ambulance opening the doors to allow paramedics to take charge, and he grabbed Jinwoo's hand, pulling him away from the scene.  
 

He had to race off of the path, Jinwoo stumbling along behind him. “Myung- Myungjun, wa-wait, what's- what's wrong?”  
 

Myungjun didn't answer until they were no longer in sight from the rest of the crowd, and when he did, he looked at Jinwoo with fright in his eyes. “You're going to continue being Death, Jinwoo. You're going to continue being Death and I'm going to be a human and I told you I'd die of old age. I'm going to die and you're still going to be Death. You'll do this and...I just want Jinwoo.”  
 

Jinwoo's expression softened and Myungjun continued. “I thought I wanted Death, too, because Death _is_ you, I thought, but it's a title. You told me it was a title. And I don't _want_ you to be Death, I want you to be Jinwoo and I want you to grow old with me.”  
 

He felt selfish for wishing it. Was there even a way to tear Jinwoo away from Death? It might have been a title, but Jinwoo was a supernatural _being_. Jinwoo wasn't really human. Jinwoo was Death, and Death was Jinwoo.  
 

“I wouldn't have agreed to date you if I thought I'd leave you behind to grow old and die,” Jinwoo suddenly said. “That'd be pretty shitty, right?”  
 

That made sense, but it didn't make sense. It was like being dead all over again, and Myungjun expressed his confusion in the most elegant way possible: “What the hell does that mean?”  
 

Jinwoo laughed – and Myungjun wanted to hear that laugh until he was old and dying, he wanted to keep it with him forever – and then kissed Myungjun's cheek. “You're such an idiot. I can retire. It's not too hard, and I've been doing this for a long time. And once I retire, I become human. It's easy enough to make an identity for myself, I can get help for that, but I just have two months left.”  
 

“Death retires?”  
 

“Doesn't happen often,” Jinwoo responded with a grin. “But when Death gets a reason to retire, or when Death just wants to experience death himself, he can retire. And I want to experience _everything_ with you, Myungjun.” He brought a hand up to brush Myungjun's bangs aside, pale fingers running through chestnut locks. A fond expression made Jinwoo's face seem so calm, so lovely, and Myungjun couldn't stop staring. “I promise, I actually thought this through. I want to stay with you forever.”  
 

He hadn't realized he was crying until Jinwoo's fondness turned into worry. “Hey, hey, don't cry! It's really happy news, nothing to be sad about!”  
 

“I'm not crying!” Myungjun covered his eyes with an arm. “Y-You're the crybaby, not me. Gosh, go to hell, Jinwoo, I'm fine!”  
 

“Sure.” Jinwoo was laughing again, and pulling at Myungjun's arm. “Come _on_ , sweetie, I didn't mean to make you cry! I thought you'd like to hear that! I was planning on telling you when I was actually retired, but _you_ brought it up. You're such an idiot, Myungjun, just look at me.”  
 

Myungjun finally did, and his eyes were rimmed with redness. “I just didn't want to die and leave you alone! I'm looking out for you, Jinwoo!”  
 

“I know you are. And I'm looking out for you, too. Here, just kiss me, moron.”  
 

Myungjun sniffled and angrily wiped at his eyes. Jinwoo pursed his lips in wait, and when no kiss came, he sighed. “Myungjun, kiss me or I'm going to walk away from you.” Still no response, so he tried again, “Myungjun, kiss me or I'm going to go tell Bin that you're twenty-four and have a contact lens case shaped like a pig, and one shaped like-”  
 

That did the trick. “You blackmailer,” Myungjun snapped, though with no malice, and he gave Jinwoo a quick peck on the lips.  
 

Jinwoo let out a giggle at that. “I love you, Myungjun. Give me a real kiss now, or I'll bring up the duck one.”  
 

And so Myungjun gave him a real kiss, unable to really be angry at Jinwoo for any longer. When they pulled back, Jinwoo was smiling dreamily and running his fingers through Myungjun's hair. “You know what they say about Death falling in love?”  
 

“What do they say?”  
 

Jinwoo was still smiling. “It doesn't happen oft-”  
 

“Shut the hell up, Jinwoo.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> It's convenient that Jinwoo can just retire from being Death, isn't it? It wasn't at all the writer going, "Shoot, I can't give it a SAD ending," so we get this instead. I'll let my plot suffer in order to have a happy ever after, trust me.
> 
> Find me at [vonseal](http://www.vonseal.tumblr.com) on the Tumblr to see me do absolutely nothing. <3


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